Chapter 68: Mr. Death Eater

{A/N: Here's Another Update...)

My Thanks To My Readers and Reviewers...Enjoy-S.S.

Unknown Location, Muggle World...

Midnight held no meaning as Severus Snape awoke in the middle of the woods. He found it quite difficult to recall just how he had gotten to this place and after a short time he did not seem to care. Given the strange circumstances, he knew that he must have been leaving the presence of the despot, the thick black smoke far off in the distance of some ruined Muggle town gave him all the insight he needed. He knew he was due back at 12 Grimmauld place and the vivid flashes of what occurred prior to his apparent blackout had come flooding back in unwanted waves once he caught a glimpse of the chaos in the distance. The chill of the night had been upon him and the weakness from his lingering sickness seemed to present an issue as far as mobility had been concerned. It had taken everything in him to keep up the charade of enjoying the torment of the screaming Muggles. In fact, it had been one of the reasons he detested having anything to do with his former associates. Power and glory were the promises of the day but all they managed to do was torment the weak and unappealing. Muggles were powerless against the collective might of the dark lord's forces and posed no challenge even in the long run, but the despot refused to let them be. Despite his well noted hatred of the non-magical blood mortals, he had an even greater hatred for those that had the benefits of pure magical blood coursing through their veins. It never escaped Snape's notice that the despot seemed to relish tormenting those far more superior to him in terms of heritage. The subjugation of many a pureblood family bore witness to the vile things he'd do when openly challenged by those whom deemed themselves to be far more advanced in terms of purity of blood.

Snape continued to get his bearings. The shock of the events prior still lingering in the air as much as the scent of blood and death that followed him. He believed himself beyond nights like this, when he had made the decision to save Lily Evans and her idiot husband James Potter following his discovery that their child marked an event in accordance with the prophecy pertaining to the dark lord. The dour wizard looked down at his hands noting their frequent trembling. If one had gotten a look at him in that moment they would have sworn he'd been afraid of the despot and the cruelty he could deliver, but the unwanted master had been the least of The Potions Master's worries. In all truth, he'd been more afraid of what he had become now that he had no choice, but to resort back to his old ways in a bid to complete his current assignments effectively.

The memories of that time seemed to linger a bit. The hated he felt for all things Muggle had stemmed from his own father. The constant abuse and ridicule from the man his mother had chosen to spend her life with only intensified the ever building rage of a young Severus Snape in those days. The same rage that he felt burning into his chest at the present time. While his mind warred with itself to gain a measure of control, Snape felt the distinctive push of his magic boiling to the surface as his rage became such that it ignited wand-less fire spells that engulfed his callous pale hands. He hated Tobias Snape more than any being in the world aside from the despot himself. The darkened eyes that haunted his every waking hour and dreams long before he'd been pulled into the blood status politics of the wizarding world.

Slowly, Snape began the seemingly encompassing task of suppressing his unwanted memories.

They were useful when bringing about desired effects in terms of putting his former brothers in arms at ease, but he had no use for them where he was going and knew better than to allow himself to remain in that state of mind for too long. The potential to lose himself had been as dangerous a task as his spy-work. Sadly, there wasn't much of a reason to suppress his darker nature aside from the guilt of it costing Lily Evans her life until his arranged marriage to Hermione Granger.

Snape's focus intensified as his mind once more became fixated upon his young wife and the possibility that there was something more between them than even he cared to admit least of all to himself. As the days passed, he found himself unable to deny his attachment to her and even less able to ignore it all together. Her constant meddling and affection seemed to be the only thing he looked forward to even more so as he managed to make it back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

He'd been very much in need of a drink as his dark thoughts and reflection on what occurred during his summoning to the Muggle town that had been laid to waste in the wake of the despot's need for entertainment. Dumbledore would want his report almost immediately while the events were fresh in his mind before the complete suppression took hold. Exhausted and still reeling from having to slowly recall the events of the attack, Snape entered the manor without making a sound.

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The Basement, 12 Grimmauld Place, Muggle World...

Hermione had not known how long she waited up for him. The rest of the house's inhabitants had gone to bed hours ago, even Lupin the notorious night owl due to his werewolf status, had turned in for the night. The sound of the stairs creaking and the familiar scent of herbs and fresh earth that followed the Potions Master even when he had not been collecting ingredients for his potions had an unfamiliar scent accompany it, it took her only a few moments but she began to recognize the smell of smoke and ash. The dark figure managed to make it down the stairs before heavily warding and sound proofing his makeshift quarters. The last thing on his mind had been a need for visitors. Hermione sensed a good deal of terror and anguish in the figure which she could see clear as day had been her husband. His movements were strange as he seemed to be struggling against something that had not been in sight.

"S-Severus?" said Hermione getting up from a makeshift chair that was placed firmly against the opposing wall space.

Snape hissed the moment she caught his attention, the images of the town and the screams of the victims filling his ears. He saw a flash of Tobias amid the shadows and his rage got the better of him as the taunting seemed to wear him down.

Hermione had barely a moment to step out of the way before Snape lunged at the phantom in his mind which seemed to have been in her direction. The shocked expression that filed across her face could barely be seen given the semi-darkness of the basement. She recognized this strange behavior, knowing all too well by now that he'd been summoned by the despot and that something awful must have happened. There was blood on his hands and some splattered about his robes as she noted the slight tearing of the material of his frock coat. His eyes were dark and slightly empty as if he'd been in some sort of trance.

"Severus?" said Hermione softly trying not to startle him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his brows narrowed and a look of utter rage filed across his sallow pale face.

This time Hermione had been much too caught off guard to react and he rushed her a second time, pinning her into the cold stone wall of the rather secured basement. The frightened young witch winced in pain as she found herself pressed against the stone with Snape glaring at her via something akin to a murderous rage. Despite the semi-darkness, she could now see that his eyes were wild like that of a mad man.

"S-Severus?" she tried once more only now recalling his warning about being anywhere near him when he returned from being summoned by the despot. He had not trusted himself nor his behavior in her presence then and she could see why now.

Hermione could do little to talk her way out of this it seemed as Snape's nostrils flared with intensity as he appeared to be studying her.

The like a stone sinking to the bottom of the ocean, a word dropped from his decidedly harsh pale lips that she never thought she'd hear from him in a million years.

"Mudblood." he hissed his wild eyes fixated upon her despite her apparent fear.

She knew then that this had not been Her Severus, but the death eater that remained when in the presence of his former master. Thinking quickly, she sought the best course of action to get out of this rather peculiar situation without causing serious harm to herself or to Severus in the long run.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked recalling her husband's preference for firewhiskey. "I-I could make one for you."

Snape seemed to look at her for the longest time before releasing her from his near on deadly grip. Hermione sunk to the floor gasping for breath as her heart beat wildly within the confines of her chest.

"So you are a servant." he reasoned, about as well as a man with a mind such as his could in that given moment.

Hermione did her best to play along, getting to her feet and walking over to his bar. She knew all too well what he liked and proceeded to make his drink accordingly. Snape watched her intently for a few moments before he began to discard his attire on the floor. He stood shirtless much to Hermione's surprise when she turned around to offer him his drink. He kept on his trousers but discarded his black dragon-hide boots beside his shirt and coat.

Snape studied the young woman for a few minutes before inspecting the whiskey she handed him then drank it down. Hermione seemed relieved that he at least trusted her enough that the intensity of his gaze had softened some. He handed her the glass and motioned for her to pour another. She did and he drank that down as well handing her the glass a third time. Once more she filled it and handed it back to him.

He drank it down a final time then made his way over to the chair she had vacated upon his entry. She knew he had to have been exhausted the long hours away always took the toll on him in the dead of night.

Snape sat down, resting his head against the back of the chair and began to drift off into a semi- drunken slumber. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she attempted to make sense of all that had transpired between them.

The effects of being a spy were indeed getting to him and his warning to her about his mindset had been duly noted. Finding herself just as exhausted as he had been, Hermione managed to levitate the sleeping wizard toward his bed and she took back the chair. This time she slept with her wand at the ready in case she had another unwanted encounter with Mr. Death Eater.